


Weighing Favours

by BandaBecca



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21648631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BandaBecca/pseuds/BandaBecca
Summary: Alistair and the Warden have to face nobles at Eamon's ball to gain their help with the Darkspawn. And confront their feelings for each other.
Relationships: Alistair & Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Warden (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 43





	Weighing Favours

Having my hair pinned up took so long when I felt like there were a thousand other ways I could be preparing for the ball. Still, I knew how important appearances were to these people, so I allowed myself to be made-up if it meant they would take me a bit more seriously when Eamon paraded me around to ask for support against Loghain and the Darkspawn. Anyway, it wasn’t the man who was doing my hair’s fault that I had to be here, so I sat still while he pulled my hair.

The door opened so hard that it bounced against the wall behind. I turned quickly, expecting a fight. “Forgive the intrusion,” the servant said, out of breath. “Your associates have returned.”

Leliana and Zevran. I stood. “Where are they now?”

“Waiting for you in an antechamber. I’m here to escort you.”

I rushed out the door, turning to the hair dresser before leaving. “Thank you, it looks great.” I lifted my skirts and hurried down the hall. “Where’s Alistair?” I asked.

“The prince is also on his way,” the servant said, and I bristled at the title.

The timing wasn’t ideal, ignoring the fact that Leliana would be outrageously disappointed that she would miss the ball. I wished I could trade places with her, but I’d have to be satisfied with arriving late.

The doors to the antechamber were already open, and the servant stopped at the door with a bow. The room was still dark, only time to light the fire in the hearth where Zev and Leliana now stood, speaking in hushed whispers. They turned at my arrival. Leliana gestured me closer, unwilling to leave the heat of the fire while Zevran said, “You look absolutely stunning, my dear Warden. I—”

“Not now, Zev,” Leliana said, waving him off. “Although that shade of blue really brings out the colour of your eyes.” She gently lifted one of the curls dangling under my ear, her face turning regretful.

Alistair’s voice was approaching. “—Isolde, not me. Although I do like those cheesy cakes, you know the ones? With the white filling…” He turned the corner, and I took a small step back in surprise. He looked...like a prince. His hair was perfectly smoothed and his face cleanly shaven. His suit, even his sash, fit him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and toned arms. In just an hour, Eamon had transformed him into exactly what all the nobles were looking for. He didn’t look like the Alistair I knew, and I hated it.

“El should be here any second,” he said, glancing at the door behind him. He moved next to Zev and held his hands in front of the fire.

I looked at Leliana. Despite whatever news she was holding in, she looked amused. “Alistair,” I said, holding out my hands, palms up.

His face revealed his understanding even as he turned. He looked me up and down. “I’m sorry! I didn’t...I...wow.” His face changed into a crooked smile.

Zevran leaned against the stone behind him, his every move seductive like always. “Who exactly did you think she was? An extra person here to listen in on our information transfer?”

He laughed nervously, looking over my shoulder at the closing doors. “No, I…” He stared at me, face flushed. I knew I should be feeling something about his mistake: flattery that I looked good enough to make him so flustered...insulted that he hadn’t recognised me at first...but I couldn’t stop searching his face that looked so different, so sharp. My heart was hammering, but not for the reasons it had any right to.

“Let’s just get to your news,” I said, forcing myself into Warden Thinking where things made more sense.

Leliana latched onto the change of subject, perceptive as always. “We found someone. A Warden from Orlais. He’s in Denerim.”

This changed everything. “Can we speak to him?” I asked.

“He’s coming here tomorrow. Zev and I will keep our eyes on him until then.”

Zevran cut in. “He says he has news but will only tell it to you directly. Highly secret Warden business,” he said with a waggle of his brows. “He claims he must meet with someone first, verify information. Of course, that gives you plenty of time to enjoy the party. And the company,” he nudged Alistair with his elbow and a knowing smirk, and Alistair’s gaze flicked to me before he cleared his throat.

Leliana punched Zevran, and he turned to her offended. “I’m just trying to help!”

“Anyway,” Leliana continued, “he seems eager to meet you. I’m sorry you have to wait, but maybe the timing is better this way.”

“This is great, thank you both.” I fiddled with a bead on the bodice of my dress, hoping I could stay focused tonight when I knew what was coming tomorrow.

“We’ll go back out and tail him,” Leliana said. “You should get to the party.”

“Do you think he’ll run?” Alistair asked.

“No...” Leliana said, looking to Zevran.

He picked up where she left off. “He seems more the type that might need a hand. The type that’s hunted.”

“Loghain would do anything to preserve his hold on Ferelden. He probably _is_ being hunted,” Alistair said.

“He had two different people on him just while we were watching, but we couldn’t tell for sure if they were working together or not,” Leliana said. “We tried to convince him to come back with us, but he insisted on finishing whatever business he had.”

I guess that meant they’d _have_ to stay on him. “All right, but take some food with you before you go.” We all moved for the door. Leliana grabbed my hand gently as the boys continued forward. She fiddled with one of my elaborate braids, turning her eyes to mine suddenly.

“It’s not always his brain that Zevran thinks with, but he’s right,” she said in a low voice. “You should enjoy the company tonight. You’ve both waited long enough. Judging by Alistair’s face when he saw you, I doubt he’ll last the night without doing som—”

The doors opened and the servants stepped in. It was as if the two minutes we’d taken to discuss the fate of Ferelden had been such a hindrance to the noble’s enjoyment of the evening.

I turned to Leliana. “Come and get me with anything. I don’t care what, if you need me, I’m there.”

She nudged me toward the door. “I’m sure that won’t be necessary. And Alistair,” she paused, and he waited for her to continue. “Try to have fun.”

I didn’t look for his reaction, instead turning to the servants and giving them a nod to proceed. I gave a final wave to Leliana and Zevran before focusing on the hall in front of us. I glanced sideways at Alistair, the hardness of his jaw and the vulnerable lift of his eyebrows in deep contrast. I pressed my shoulder against his. “Imagine the multitudes of cheese they’ll have.”

The breath rushed out of him. “That’s the only reason we’re going, right?”

I laughed quietly, already dulling my emotions in preparation for the party. “We can find something else to get us through. Not to replace the thought of cheese, but to...buttress it.”

After a moment’s pause, he said, “The end of the party, no matter how far away, is inevitable.” He continued looking straight ahead.

I hummed in acknowledgement. “And Oghren won’t be there.”

“It would be better if he was. People wouldn’t notice us with his commotion. And smell.” His voice was uneven, and I got a flash of how he must feel. That these people expected something from him that he’d never done, had never practiced. I hated the juxtaposition of my Alistair with royal Alistair, but at least I wasn’t the one torn between the two.

Without breaking stride, I folded his arm against his chest and settled my hand in the crook of his elbow. “They don’t have to know anything you don’t show them, Alistair.”

He watched me for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m not going anywhere. And besides, I have a few booby traps set up in the hall, so if you give me the signal, I can...you know.” I gave him a meaningful tip of my head. He pulled my arm more tightly against his side. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

We reached the entrance to the main hall.

The servants tapped the door four times, and someone on the other side responded with two knocks of their own. With a brief nod, the servants pushed the doors open, and the golden light streamed in toward us among the swirling skirts and cool, Ferelden colours.

I rubbed my thumb twice along the inside of Alistair’s arm.

“Presenting Prince Alistair Therin and Lady Elle Cousland, Grey Wardens of the Kingdom of Ferelden!”

Whether by coincidence or design, the song ended, and the whirling bodies turned in our direction. I sensed Alistair’s hesitation and pulled him toward the stairs. We descended in heavy silence, and I moved my eyes from face to face, hoping I conveyed confidence and kindness in equal measure. I hoped Alistair was working on a similar tactic, and one he was succeeding at, because most eyes would be on him and not me.

As soon as our feet hit the marble floor, the music struck up again. About half of the people turned back to dancing while the other half shifted in our direction.

One couple was faster than the others, one woman wearing a dress and the other trousers. “Ladies Adelina Danai and Arela Alova,” one said, and they both bowed. “Will you honour us with a dance, Your Highness? Your Ladyship?”

I knew the Arl had insisted on Alistair receiving dance instruction, but I didn’t know if he was ready for every eye to be on him just now. Not before a few drinks at least. But he and I both knew that we didn’t exactly have a choice. “It would be our pleasure,” I said, holding out my hand to Lady Alova. We sewed our way into the dancing, and after the song was finished, another dance partner appeared. This happened several times, and I struggled to keep my eye on Alistair. This was made especially difficult because I was also focusing on making sure I communicated my assurances that we had the skill and power necessary to defeat the Darkspawn. And of course, doing that while balancing how desperate we were for every soldier and supply they could spare without looking, well, desperate for those very things.

I curtsied for what felt like the thousandth time as my hand was taken by someone. My anger spiked, but when I saw the figure was Eamon my attention sharped. “Will you do me the honour?” he asked.

His careful smile soured as my hesitation stretched between us. “Of course.” He pulled me against him for the waltz, and I scanned the room over his shoulder to see Alistair sneaking behind a pillar tucked away near the stairs. I focused on the Arl. “Is there something on your mind?” I didn’t bother with his title. I didn’t much feel he deserved it.

“There is, in fact. If you think I haven’t noticed your feelings for the Prince, you’re not as intelligent as your father led me to believe.”

“Have I given an indication that I care whether you’ve noticed them or not?” The sleeping, ever-present anger I had for him was threatening to freeze my insides. I kept my face passive as I scanned the room over his shoulder, intent not to lose my temper.

“You certainly should. For his sake, and for the kingdom’s. Even if he reciprocates your feelings—” I clenched my teeth, “—a union between the two of you has potential to do incredible damage. If you won’t consider his future or the future of Ferelden, consider the reputation of the Cousland line if you—”

I pulled away from him sharply, a thousand words behind my lips about how disgusted I was by what he had done, what he had allowed to be done, to Alistair. And then to parade back into his life and try and shape him into something new, something different, than the man I’d come to care for so deeply? But I couldn’t make a scene. Because of our mission, and because Eamon was right: my feelings for Alistair were too great, and I could protect him in more ways than watching his back during battle.

My voice was laced with poison. “Your power has limits. And you’ve reached them.”

His eyes darted to the crowd before joining mine again. He clamped his mouth closed and smoothed his hands over his vest, and it seemed that not even the Arl could hide all his feelings. I turned and moved to the food table without another word, the ravishing hunger I’d had moments ago completely gone. To appear busy regardless, I grabbed a napkin, pulling cube after cube of colourful cheeses onto the cloth. A servant approached and poured me a glass of wine, and I took it, sniffing it for poisons like I always did.

I moved into the relative shadow of one of the curtains, staring at the food I’d collected, not feeling up to faking a single bite. “Don’t worry, I’ll slip something in his drink.”

I recognised the voice. “I didn’t think you attended balls.”

“Not for conventional reasons,” Morrigan said. “But for the opportunities a man like Eamon presents, I find myself tempted.”

I glanced slidelong at her, her image shimmering and fading in the light under whatever spell she’d cast over herself. With this skill and her ability to transform into animals, she truly could do plenty of damage here. I smiled into the rim of my glass. “Thank you.”

I sensed rather than heard her subtle acknowledgement. “In the meantime, you might want to rescue your fellow Warden. It seems nobles get handsy when drunk just as much as common men do.” My feelings morphed into frustration, and with a rustle, she was gone.

I picked up a second glass of wine and made my way to the corner, clicking my shoes loudly on the floor as I went. As I curved around the pillar, there was a shuffle of bodies before a man in a mask backed away from a bewildered Alistair.

“I must speak to the prince in private,” I commanded. The man bowed his head, hiding the bit of his face that escaped the mask. His body language didn’t look guilty as much as put out, and I hoped Morrigan was planning a surprise for him too. Not that I could really fault anyone for taking an interest in Alistair.

Alistair turned to me, still looking like a cornered animal. “That wasn’t—I tried to—” he stammered.

I pushed the wine at him, still balancing his glass with my own. “I know.” Still, I wanted to pull one of the knives out of my boot and chase after him.

He looked at the wine confused, and I forced the cheese into his other hand. He perked up then. “Thank you.” He lowered his mouth to the cheese on the napkin and I rolled my eyes looking over my shoulder.

“Someone is going to see you eating like an animal.”

“If people could see me, Lord Briggon wouldn’t have stayed so long.” He ate another cube.

I sighed and glanced behind me once more, strategically moving my body to shield him as best I could. I pulled at the left strap of my dress, the fabric digging into my shoulder uncomfortably. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

I looked up at him. He was frozen mid-swoop down to his cheese, face expectant. I swallowed. I hadn’t been raised to be this transparent. I hadn’t been raised to allow someone like Eamon to talk to me the way he just had either. “I’m ready for the night to be over,” I said.

“But we haven’t even watched a drunken brawl yet. We can’t leave.”

“If we stay much longer, the one in the brawl will be me.”

“Then I definitely want to stay!”

Despite Eamon’s lingering words, my spirits lifted a bit. “You get to see me fight all the time.”

“Against Darkspawn. That’s, you know, scary and life-threatening. We have to watch our backs at every turn. Can’t even bathe alone! But fighting a noble during a ball? _That’s_ the kind of thing they make ballads out of.”

My foul moods were never deep enough that Alistair couldn’t laugh me out of them again. “Maker damn it all,” I said, moving to lean on the wall next to him, our shoulders touching. I took one of his cheese cubes, popping it into my mouth.

“Hey, that’s mine! Get your own.”

I punched his arm, knocking a cube to the floor.

His eyes went wide. “A precious squarelet!” He rushed to pick up the cube and put it in his mouth.

I laughed and grabbed his wrist. “Alistair! You can’t eat off the floor at your own party! You’re the _prince_.”

“Which means that I set the rules, and I say that I’m allowed to eat off the floor. Let it be done,” he said with a flourish of his wine glass. We laughed together, and for a moment, I wasn’t scared of who he might become. Maybe this castle and its residents didn’t define us.

The moment shifted. I was holding both his wrists against my chest, the heat of his skin peeking out of his sleeves and soaking into my fingertips. We were close, close enough that we might be dancing, but...he wasn’t moving and neither was I. My eyes darted to his lips, slightly pink from the wine, and at my show of weakness, he leaned down to me. I reached up on my toes, stretching closer, closer to those lips that I’d watched form jokes, kind words, and battle cries.

I closed my eyes tight and pulled away, releasing him. The stillness shattered, and I remembered where we were, what I’d almost done, and how this was the least appropriate place for it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, rushed and breathy.

My face was warm. “We should continue this...not here.”

“Sh—should we?”

I looked up at him as the embarrassment started in.

“I didn’t mean—that is, I’ve been thinking about you...like this...for a long time, but I wasn’t sure if you, you know, _wanted_ to, and then this happened _here_ , and there’s been wine and dancing, and I didn’t want to hold you to—”

“Ali.”

He stopped and swallowed hard.

“I want to very much.”

I laid the dress over the back of the settee, rubbing the red stripe on my shoulder made by the chafing of the strap all night. I’d managed to get out of the last post-ball briefing, but only because it was between Alistair and Eamon alone, and I couldn’t pull him out even if I wanted to. Still, I wished I knew what was going on in there. I didn’t know how much pull Eamon still had over him, and I was fully expecting him to manipulate his role as Alistair’s former caretaker.

My door opened in a rush of movement as Alistair spun into the room, leaning back against the door, breathing hard.

In the flurry, I’d reached for my daggers instead of my robe, but upon seeing it was Alistair, I’d frozen in the motion. While Alistair remained very un-scewered by my choice, now I was standing in nothing but my underthings, and the kind of underthings one wears under a gown, not the kind one wears when battling Darkspawn.

His eyes widened before he turned back to the door so quickly, it was a wonder he didn’t scrape his nose across it. “I’m...so sorry. I didn’t want anyone to see me coming in and push me into another meeting.”

I pulled the robe over myself, tying the belt loosely. “You can turn back around.” His ears were rosy as he did so, and he didn’t meet my eyes. “How was your talk with Eamon?”

He fiddled with the handle of the dresser. “Oh, you know, I’m the nation’s last hope against the Darkspawn, I should have tried harder to earn favour instead of eating all the cheese, I need to live up to my father’s legacy, the usual.”

I stepped toward him and he finally looked at me. “Alistair…” where should I start?

His face changed. I took a steadying breath when I realised it was the same expression he’d worn when he gave me the rose—the Alistair who didn’t try and pretend that he saw less than he really did. As if he’d read my mind, he said, “You don’t have to say anything.” He closed the gap between us and took my hand, staring at my fingers wrapped in his. “I was used to a lot of things when I was living here. Things I’m not used to anymore. I see people here differently now, Eamon especially. I used to believe everything he said, but he can be wrong just like anyone else. I know that he probably cares more about politics than he does about me. I know that his opinions don’t have to mean anything at all.” I moved my hand to his shoulder. It must have been a difficult realisation to make and one that I wouldn’t wish on him despite my feelings for Eamon. “I think you know that’s because of you.”

Of course I’d hoped, but I didn’t want to assume, nor did I want to assume that he’d tell me so even if it were true. Our job was to save Ferelden. It didn’t leave much time for thoughts of individual well-being even if Alistair changed what I thought I wanted.

He tucked my hair behind my ear while his breath ghosted across my forehead. My robe was slipping off my right shoulder, but I didn’t move to pull it back up, and the material dropped, crookedly revealing the delicate lace of my breastband. His gaze tracked the movement, and when I didn’t rush to cover myself, he pulled me gently against him with a strong hand at my back.

“You scared me today,” I said, staring at his chin instead of his eyes.

He leaned back a few inches. “What do you mean?”

“I like who you are. I have since Ostagar. But today you…looked like a Prince. A real one.” Perhaps that sounded like an insult, but I kept going. “I don’t want you to change into what he’s trying to make you into.”

“Well good. I don’t want that either.” His tone was joking, but his eyes were clear.

“You might _have_ to change, Alistair, and I’ll have to let you. If you become king—”

“Then you’re right, I _will_ change. You’ll change too, we all will. But there are things that I…I don’t want to…” He sighed hard. “I don’t want things to change between us. I don’t want us to separate. Unless, well, we have to travel for missions, but if we would come back…”

“To each other?” I offered, and he smiled. My pulse sped up.

“Yes. Exactly.” He hesitantly reached for my bare shoulder, his fingers gently caressing my skin before flattening his hand and tracing it down my arm, his skin a naked heat. I closed my eyes as his fingers went under the sleeve of my robe and further down my arm. “Will you…let me stay for a while?” he whispered.

I opened my eyes to find his intently on me, an unfamiliar crease in his brows. He had waited as long as I had, and still, he was willing to wait even longer. I tilted my head up and placed a lingering kiss under his ear. His breath was warm as it fluttered my hair, and I untied my robe with one slow pull. I took his hands, tucking them under the fabric and placing them on the bare skin of my hips. “Stay,” I whispered back.

It was as if a time spell had been cast, slowing everything in the room. Our heads turned toward each other, our eyes closing, and after one hundred eternities, our lips met. He was soft and warm, his lips forming to mine as I raised my arms around his neck, and his wrapped more completely around me. The rough scratch of his wool vest was thick enough to reach the tender skin of my nipples hiding under the lace, perking them to attention, and I pushed them more fully against him, seeking more friction.

He sighed against my mouth, one hand snaking to my breast and grabbing a handful. I moaned gently, melting against him. He took my surrender and led me backwards until my back hit the stone. He placed one hand on the wall near my left ear, pinning me to the cold surface, and his mouth moved to my neck, his tongue flicking against the skin. I clung to him, afraid I’d fall the moment I let go, but ready to give myself up and trust that he’d catch me.

I clumsily reached for the top button of his vest, exposing his neck. My fingers moved quickly down the garment, hastened by the thought of experiencing more of the body I’d watched bend and swing, claiming victory over countless Darkspawn. I pushed the vest off his shoulders, and he pulled the tunic over his head. I caught my breath at the sudden expanse of bare skin and reached out hungrily. I moved my hands from his stomach over his chest to his taut, round shoulders, leaving open mouthed kisses on his collarbone.

“Maker,” he breathed, tipping his head back, and I could feel the moment he let go of everything that had happened this evening before he chose to come into my quarters.

I’d seen him shirtless before, struggling to follow Wynne’s instructions to mend his clothing, but I hadn’t been prepared for how the taste of him would enhance the experience so drastically. I couldn’t be close enough to him to be satisfied. The fire in my chest had been burning for him for weeks, months, but the way his skin felt rubbing against mine was turning that fire into something that wanted to consume, to destruct, and it wanted more.

I tugged on the laces of his trousers, and he pulled back to look into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

I playfully pulled at the band of his trousers, but not enough to remove them. I didn’t want to push him farther than he wanted to go, even if he’d asked to stay. “I want you,” I said, my body attuned to every movement of his.

It wasn’t exactly a smile that spread across his face, but it was something that made my stomach drop somewhere near my feet. He pulled his trousers down a few inches, and his cock sprung free. My breath stuttered, and I looked from his erection to his face, feeling my desire for him like a physical force under my skin that was pushing to get outside my body and into his. In a rush, overcome with need, I leaned into him, one arm going around his neck while I used the other hand to grasp his shaft firmly and pump it slowly.

A strangled cry pushed from his throat, and he grabbed my wrist, almost stumbling against me as he rested his forehead against my neck. “I...” he took several deep breaths, and I thought I’d gone too far before he moved his hand over mine, helping me rub his cock in even strokes. He was hard and ready, but his skin was smooth and soft. “Sweet Andraste,” he whispered, and I almost didn’t catch it around the groan in his voice.

I pulled my hand away and moved to the bed, sitting and crossing my legs while curling my index finger toward me. He watched me with a combination of happiness and desire before stepping out of his trousers. His thighs and calves flexed in turn as he did so, and the room felt hotter than before. His erection bobbed as he stepped toward me, and I leaned back on one elbow, extending my other hand toward him. He lowered himself over me, and the heat of his chest against mine was almost more than I could stand. I reached behind me, unhooking my breastband and tossed it a few feet away.

At the sight of my bare chest, he froze and mumbled something under his breath. I pulled him on top of me as a sigh passed through my lips. He lowered his head, sucking my right nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it. I cried out, and my knees instinctively jerked up on either side of his body. He kissed a smoky laugh against my skin, raising goosepimples over every inch of me.

He braced himself with one hand against the mattress while the other traced down my ribs, over the curve of my waist and hooked into my panties. He pulled the fabric slowly over my hips, the delicate material slipping ever lower. He stood and disentangled himself from my legs, pulling my panties off my ankles. He looked down at me, and I wondered if I looked as desperate as I felt for him to lay over me again and kiss me everywhere. He touched my left ankle, lazily tracing his fingers up my calf, over my knee, up my thigh, and slowed when he reached my wet core.

I squirmed under his touch, wanting so badly for him to continue just an inch further and dip his fingers inside me. His gaze roamed from my toes to the tips of my hair laying attention over each part in turn. “You are so beautiful.”

“Please Alistair.”

Perhaps he was feeling generous. Perhaps he had used up what remained of his self-control to slow down before we lost ourselves in one another. Either way, at my plea, the panties fell from his fingers. He placed one hand on my thigh while the other moved to my core, fingers pushing past my lips. I moaned loud and long, reaching for him in a haze as he nestled into my neck before our mouths met. I guided his fingers to my clit, and he circled the little bud.

“Like that?” he asked, and I struggled to catch my breath as I whispered a slew of curses, trying desperately to hold onto this moment and not drift away. Not yet.

He seemed determined to taste as much of me as he could, his mouth travelling across my chest and down to my stomach. His fingers drifted away from me, and I opened my eyes, catching his gaze. He was perched with his mouth over my heat, his breath grazing my pubic hair. “Let me taste you.”

I hesitated, making certain I wasn’t misunderstanding him amid what I wanted him to do to me so badly. I bit my lip and nodded, ready to take what he offered.

He dipped his head, parting my lips slightly with two fingers and dragged his tongue along my slit. He rubbed back and forth tauntingly over my clit, and my head fell back against the bed, my hand going over my mouth to stifle the whine rising out of me. The sensation was unlike anything I’d ever felt, his mouth like magic, making my toes curl.

He guided one leg over his shoulder, following the smooth skin of my thigh to cup my ass and pull me closer to him, burying his face deeper into my folds. It was all I could do not to squeeze my legs together, holding him between my legs forever. When I touched myself, my muscles seemed to coil tighter and tighter, but under Alistair’s attention, I felt completely different. It was as if I was slowly unravelling with each swipe of his tongue, sinking further into the mattress as he hummed against me as a reward for being so vocal.

I tried to push my climax away, to stay here longer, but it couldn’t be denied. I reached down, threading my fingers into his, feeling dizzy at how sexy he looked with his eyes on me and his mouth against my cunt. “Alistair, I’m… _ah_ , I’m close.”

I could feel him smile, but his steady pressure didn’t stop. In three more tight breaths, all I could do was cling to his hand and tumble into ecstasy.

I couldn’t feel my skin. Or maybe I was feeling everything at once. But when I remembered where I was, Alistair was lying next to me, playing with my hair and brushing it across my breasts. I caught his eye and said between deep breaths, “You’re pretty good at that.”

He smiled. “I particularly enjoyed the view.”

“You’re welcome to revisit it.”

“Any time I like?”

“Any at all,” I laughed, and he kissed me hard.

My heart was hammering again even though he was taking his time to kiss higher toward my ear while his hand moved down my breast, pinching a nipple gently, causing me to gasp and curl into his chest. He continued down to my hips, pulling me and tucking me under him, and I caught my breath at his erection pinned between us. He paused, waiting for me to decide what happened next, but the hard pressure of his arousal was more than I could stand. I ground against him. He groaned, returning the action, the base of his cock rubbing my clitoris.

As the pleasure shot down my spine, I leaned into him, guiding him to his back as I straddled his hips. He put his hands on my waist, eyes alight but focused. I traced my finger from his navel to the base of his cock, his muscles tightening under me. I turned my gaze to his face as I wrapped my fingers around him, closing his cock in my grip. I stroked him slowly. His expression faltered as his face crumpled in pleasure.

“Do you want me?” I asked, voice silky.

“Maker, yes. More than anything.” His hands grabbed my thighs desperately. I held the base of him, holding him steady as lined him up against me. I lowered myself onto him slowly, feeling the tightness of his entry, void of pain after the attention he’d given me. His eyes widened, and he inhaled through his teeth. His muscles contracted under my hips, and as I settled over him completely, he let out a deep exhale.

“How do you feel?” I asked.

He swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a moment. “Like I got so lucky meeting you at Ostagar.”

I kissed him gently. “Me too.” Entwining our fingers and pulling his arm over his head, I lifted my hips until he was almost out of me before thrusting back down. The motion of his cock grazed something deep inside me and rolled my eyes back. My breasts tingled as they bounced against his chest, and I started up a rhythm as one of his hands slipped to my clitoris. I traced my tongue around the shell of his ear, pulling the lobe between my teeth and he moaned. With one hand, he was bringing me closer to orgasm while the other grasped my hip, pulling me down on him even as he thrust up into me. He was so deliciously deep, and I gasped against the pleasure that threatened to pull me into the void once again.

He sucked on my neck, and I didn’t think I could hold out much longer. He said, panting, “Where should I…? I’m going to come.”

I cried out, “Inside. Give it to me, everything you have.”

He whispered my name so quietly that I almost didn’t hear it. He placed his hand on my cheek, pulling away just enough to look me in the eyes as our breaths mingled. He looked upon me with more naked adoration than I’d ever seen in another’s face, as if he wished he could say everything in the world to me, only me, but knew nothing could truly articulate exactly what he felt.

And I’d do anything to have him look at me that way again.

The moment was over as quickly as it began, and his eyes clamped shut as his hips stuttered and his rhythm became slower and more deliberate. His finger didn’t slow on my clit, and I fell apart with him, our shouts rising together as our hips gradually stilled.

I was slack over him while we caught our breath. Soon, I rolled off him, and my legs shook at the effort, but I was happy for the discomfort. I tucked his arm against my chest and he closed my hand in his as I kissed his shoulder, looking up into his face. His eyes were closed, but he was smiling. He must have felt my gaze because soon his eyes met mine.

“Why did we wait so long to do this?” he asked, his cheeks still flushed.

“Because neither of us is particularly intelligent.”

“Well that’s horribly untrue. One of us is.” He rubbed his forehead and took a deep, fulfilled sigh. “I’m happy to carry that burden.”

“This was last time we do this then.”

“No, I’m sorry!” he shouted, throwing his leg over me and pulling me into his arms as I laughed against his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope it made you happy!


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